Blackwood's Edinburgh Magazine, Volumen125

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William Blackwood, 1879
 

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Página 468 - I have heard, That guilty creatures sitting at a play Have by the very cunning of the scene Been struck so to the soul that presently They have proclaim'd their malefactions; For murder, though it have no tongue, will speak With most miraculous organ.
Página 466 - Why, look you now, how unworthy a thing you make of me! You would play upon me; you would seem to know my stops; you would pluck out the heart of my mystery; you would sound me from my lowest note to the top of my compass: and there is much music, excellent voice, in this little organ, yet cannot you make it speak. 'Sblood, do you think, I am easier to be played on than a pipe...
Página 464 - Pale as his shirt; his knees knocking each other; And with a look so piteous in purport, As if he had been loosed out of hell, To speak of horrors, — he comes before me.
Página 572 - Some trust in chariots, and some in horses : but we will remember the name of the LORD our God. . 8 They are brought down and fallen : but we are risen, and stand upright.
Página 59 - TEARS, idle tears, I know not what they mean, Tears from the depth of some divine despair Rise in the heart, and gather to the eyes, In looking on the happy Autumn-fields, And thinking of the days that are no more. Fresh as the first beam glittering on a sail, That brings our friends up from the underworld, Sad as the last which reddens over one That sinks with all we love below the verge ; So sad, so fresh, the days that are no more.
Página 394 - It is difficult to estimate too highly the value of such a series as this in giving 'English readers' an insight, exact as far as it goes, into those olden times which are so remote and yet to many of us so close.
Página 464 - He took me by the wrist, and held me hard: Then goes he to the length of all his arm; And, with his other hand thus o'er his brow, He falls to such perusal of my face, As he would draw it.
Página 180 - So every passion, but fond love, Unto its own redress does move ; But that alone the wretch inclines To what prevents his own designs ; Makes him lament, and sigh, and weep, Disorder'd. tremble, fawn, and creep ; Postures which render him despis'd, Where he endeavours to be priz'd. For women (born to be controll'd) Stoop to the forward and the bold ; Affect the haughty and the proud, The gay, the frolic, and the loud.

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